


Five-Point-Three Years

by annathaema (moony)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, James T. Kirk is a Mess, M/M, No Actual Ponning of Anyone's Farr, Pon Farr, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 08:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17597498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moony/pseuds/annathaema
Summary: “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Spock,” said Kirk quickly. “I mean, it’s a biological urge, right? Involuntary? You can’t help it. You’re like a- Like a salmon that has to swim back to the pond where it was born so it can lay eggs. Except you’re not a fish, and I’m pretty sure Vulcans don’t lay eggs. But you know what I mean, right?”Spock sat there, eyes closed, not saying anything. Was Spock even breathing?Oh God, it was starting.—Kirk is a well-meaning idiot and this surprises absolutely no one, least of all Spock.





	Five-Point-Three Years

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fiveyearmission](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveyearmission/gifts).



> I wrote this nine years ago, right after the reboot first came out. I don't remember the specifics of how this came to be, but I like it and I'd like to preserve it somewhere else other than Dreamwidth. So, here it is! Any inconsistencies in the timeline are due to age.
> 
> My first and only Star Trek fic, which is really weird considering my mother was one of the original Trekkies and wrote her own fanfiction in the 1970s-80s. Star Trek was, by default, my first fandom, 40 years ago. 
> 
> Mom, this one's for you. <3

 

Kirk had first heard of _pon farr_ from an old textbook at the Academy. He’d found it in the library, in the climate-controlled room where they kept the ancient texts, the ones printed on paper and bound in the hide of some unfortunate animal. The text had been in High Vulcan, which was tricky but not impossible for Kirk to translate (Uhura wasn’t the only cunning linguist in the Academy, thank you).

He’d read it out of curiosity, and because he was bored and he’d read everything else, and then promptly forgot about it because when the hell was he ever going to meet a Vulcan?

Three years later, after he’d forgotten the book in favor of something much more interesting (Bones’s snickerdoodle recipe, all the words to ‘Dancing Queen,’ Hodgkin’s Law of Parallel Planetary Development, Federation regulations, the memory of Uhura in her underwear, the Lorentz invariance in loop quantum gravity), Kirk met his first Vulcan and decided he was an asshole.

A few months later that Vulcan became his first officer aboard the freshly-repaired Enterprise. A few months after that, they were solid friends. And exactly one year after their first encounter, when the Enterprise was three weeks from the nearest starbase and at least a month out from the Vulcan colony planet, Vokau, Kirk remembered reading that book and was immediately concerned that he and his crew were now trapped in outer space with a ticking time bomb named Spock.

Kirk was a tactical genius. He knew how to handle delicate situations—no, really, he did. His tendency to not only think outside the box but set the box on fire and beam it to a distant moon was often the factor that tipped those situations in their favor—most of the time.

However as much as he preferred the loud, noisy way out, Kirk also understood that there were times when subtlety was a wiser modus operandi. So instead of sounding the alarm—or telling Bones, which amounted to the same thing—he decided to start watching Spock a little more closely than usual.

It was easy enough to keep an eye on him when they were on the bridge, but Kirk was not prepared for what stalking—monitoring, he was monitoring—Spock after-hours would entail. The man hardly slept, and even though Kirk had stayed awake often enough in xenobiology to know that Vulcans don’t require the same amount of sleep as, say, a human does, it was still mind-boggling that Spock stayed vertical for as long as he did.

For the next several hours, Kirk followed him all over the goddamn ship, regretting his decision to not just sound a red alert and chuck Spock out onto the nearest planet (though, unlike some people, he'd at least check and make sure there were no giant red vagina-faced lobster monsters down there, first).

He first found Spock working with the staff in the botanical garden, who were cultivating several Vulcan plants in an effort to preserve their medicinal qualities. After that, Spock went to catalog instrument readings in the high-energy physics lab. A mind-numbing hour later Kirk caught him meditating in the observation lounge, a figure of tranquility surrounded by chaotic space beyond the windows, oblivious to the other people around him. Kirk had never seen someone remain so completely still for so long.

After Kirk woke up (because watching a meditating Vulcan was actually pretty soothing) he quickly caught up with Spock in the chemistry laboratory, attending to some geological specimens (also known as rocks, at least to Kirk) they’d picked up on their last planetary pit-stop. From there it was straight to the firing range, where Spock, at the expense of several smoldering targets, reminded Kirk why he always, always took Spock with him on away missions.

Finally, they both wound up in the officer’s dining mess, where Spock ate neatly from a fruit plate while Scotty chatted about haggis or Loch Ness monsters or whatever it is Scottish people talk about, while Kirk pretended to eat while lurking at a table nearby. By that point he didn’t care if they were plotting mutiny and planning to maroon him on a planet full of Nazis, he was exhausted.

“Captain.”

Kirk opened his eyes and lifted his head from where he'd been resting it atop his chicken sandwich. “Spock?”

Spock was standing over him. He reached over and removed the lettuce stuck to Kirk’s ear. “I wish to know why you have been following me for the last seven hours and fourteen minutes.”

“Er,” said Kirk, demonstrating his innate ability to remain articulate in high-pressure situations. “No reason.”

“I do not believe that to be true,” said Spock. He took a seat in the empty chair across from Kirk. “Are you concerned with how I spend my free time away from the bridge?”

Kirk shook his head. “Not at all.” He scooted back, just a little, just enough to give him a few seconds’ head start, if it came down to that. “I was just, ah, curious,” he finishes lamely. “Always interested in how the crew’s doing.”

“Captain,” said Spock, with the tone of voice one might use to address a spectacularly stupid dog. Kirk knew that tone. His mother, Pike and at least six professors had used it on him, often. Bones used it at least once a day (twice on Sundays). It was not a good tone.

“Okay, okay.” Kirk ran a hand through his hair and glanced around nervously, then leaned forward. “I know about your little problem.”

Spock’s slightly furrowed his brow. “My problem, Captain.”

“Yeah,” said Kirk. He dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper. “You know.”

“I do not know. Please enlighten me.”

Kirk sighed. “Every seven years?” he hedged. When Spock’s eyes widened Kirk knew dawn had broken over Marblehead. “Yeah, that.”

“You are referring to _pon farr_ ,” said Spock, quietly. “I do not know how you have come by this knowledge, Captain—”

“It was in a book,” said Kirk. “I read it back at the Academy.”

“I assure you that— You read a book about _pon farr_ in the Academy library?” Spock blinked. “The only books that would contain such information would be written in High Vulcan.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Kirk. He waved a hand impatiently. “I know.”

“You can read Vulcan?” asked Spock. Kirk wasn’t sure if he felt pleased to have surprised him, or annoyed that he had. “I was not aware that you had ever studied the language.”

“ _Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar t'Zamu il t'Veh_ ,” said Kirk with a smile. “That's Surak, right?”

“I am impressed, Captain, I must admit.” He didn't sound that impressed.

“ _Anyway_ , back to the subject at hand." Kirk leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "This _pon farr_ business—did I read it right? Are you really going to go insane if you don’t get laid?”

Spock stared at him.

“Spock? Come in, Spock.” Kirk leaned over and waved a hand in front of his face, and instinctively Spock leaned back. Kirk smiled. “Still with me? Because I really want to know if I have to initiate a ship-wide alert for surprise Vulcan sexy times.”

That got Spock’s attention, and Kirk could see the very tips of his ears turn a faint (yet completely adorable, wait until he told Bones) green. “Captain.” Spock closed his eyes, and for a moment Kirk thought he might be counting to ten, or visualizing his happy place, or whatever it is Vulcans did to keep from strangling their captains. Again.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Spock,” said Kirk quickly. “I mean, it’s a biological urge, right? Involuntary? You can’t help it. You’re like a— You're like a salmon that has to swim back to the pond where it was born so it can lay eggs. Except you’re not a fish, and I’m pretty sure Vulcans don’t lay eggs. But you know what I mean, right?” He waved his hands as he spoke, growing more anxious every minute Spock sat there, eyes closed, not saying anything. Was Spock even breathing?

_Oh God, it was starting._

“Look, Spock, you just say the word, and we’ll do whatever we can to accommodate you. I mean, there’s no shortage of fine folks on board who wouldn’t want the opportunity to see what’s under those science blu—“

Spock thumped his hand on the table, effectively silencing Kirk, and opened his eyes. His expression was caught somewhere between indulgent and bemused. “I am in no danger of undergoing _pon farr_ in the near future,” he said evenly. “It will not occur for another five-point-three years, by which time I will have returned to the colony in preparation.”

“Wait, really?” asked Kirk. “You already know when it’ll happen? Because I assumed, you know, you being half-human, it might throw off your, uh, cycle?” He ignored the ridiculousness of discussing cycles with Spock. “You know, make it unpredictable?”

“No,” said Spock. “My humanity does not affect _pon farr_. It would also be extremely illogical for Vulcans to not have developed a method for predicting the onset of _pon farr_ , so as to avoid any complications it might present.”

“Oh.” Kirk sagged in his chair. “Yeah, that makes sense, I guess. So, we don’t have to get you to Vokau, warp factor ten billion?” he asked, curiously disappointed.

“Negative, Captain” said Spock. “Not only are the warp engines incapable of such a speed, there is no need to return me to the Vulcan colony at the present time.” He studied Kirk intently. “You seem dismayed.”

“Do I?” Kirk didn’t know if he was asking Spock, or himself. “Huh. Maybe a little. I mean, I don’t want you to go insane and die, or anything. I just thought it might be, uh, interesting.” He wonders if it’s bad form for captains to eject themselves from an airlock.

“Do not worry,” said Spock, as he rose from his seat. “When I enter into _pon farr_ , Jim, you will be the first to know.”

Kirk could only stare after him as he left, and he made a mental note to mark his calendar for five-point-three years from now.

  
—fin—

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